"The garden wall cuts a slant of shade in the golden air. I drive my wheelchair in, put the backrest down, sit or lie down, read or think, and flap a branch to drive away the little insects that, like me, don't understand why they come to this world." "The bee is like a small mist, hovering steadily in the air; the ant shakes its head and strokes its antennae, suddenly thinking through something, turns around and runs away; the ladybug is tired of crawling, and prays once when tired, then spreads its wings and flies into the air; a cicada shell is left on the tree trunk, lonely like an empty house; dew rolls and gathers on the grass leaves, bending them and falling to the ground with a bang, breaking off thousands of golden lights."
